Noise
by something someone said
Summary: When Romano comes home everything is noisy.  Spain/Romano


Disclaimer: I don't own APH.

* * *

Spain wakes to sound of him coming home.

"I'm home," Romano yells, a door is slammed and grocery bags crash to the table. "Where are you?"

When Romano is home everything is noisy. Pots and pans slide against each other, creating their thundering ensemble. Water runs from the faucet, loud like the breaking of an ocean wave.

"Dammit, where are you?" He yells again and Spain buries himself more in the blankets, his head throbbing, each sound as sharp as a breaking windshield. It's probably Spain's own fault that he has a hang over. It's probably his fault he wandered into a bar and had one drink and then another and then another and then another until Barcelona glowed like a carnival in neon colors and he didn't know what was what, just that the feeling felt good and he wanted more.

He hears the refrigerator door open, slam, open again, as drawers are stuffed with produce, cheese, and milk is shoved in. Every time the fridge opens it sounds like a kiss from the rubber on the frame. An overdone kiss from a mustached aunt.

"Where are you?"

The noises move from the kitchen to the hallway. Romano is looking for him, opening a door and slamming it again. His feet like a military march, and with all the dread of one. Spain counts the seconds down. Two more doors to go- slam! One more door to go- slam!

The door he's behind opens, hinges squeaking like a dying animal.

"There you are! What the hell are you doing?" Romano asks though he knows damn well Spain is trying to sleep, so twisted up in blankets he's close to resembling a bodybag fresh from a murder scene.

Spain doesn't move.

Romano isn't fooled. "It's almost lunch. What are you doing?" And then Spain feels that familiar weight and Romano has climbed on top of those blankets and is searching out whichever points will make him wake up and keel over in pain faster. He finds his stomach and punches hard.

Spain rolls over but still refuses to budge. He wants to think Romano will just get up and leave if he doesn't move. He knows he won't.

"Wake up!" Romano flips the covers over revealing a tussled-hair Spain, his face pale, eyes unfocused, breath still potent.

"The hell were you doing last night?" Romano draws back because he's afraid and confused but mostly revulted.

"Just..." Spain slurs out, "...you know..." And Spain doesn't even recall what he was going to say. Only that the pounding in his head is much worse now that the blankets are off.

"What?" Romano asks.

Spain wants to chuckle, but there's no laughter in his system. "Stuff." And he doesn't want to elaborate because maybe there's an extra stain on the bedspread that he doesn't want Romano to see.

"_Stuff_?" Ramano says it like a swear word and Spain just wants to go back to sleep.

"Mmm." Roll over and close his eyes.

"You had fun with your _stuff_?"

"Mmm." And dream of all the pretty lights.

"Had a big night with your _stuff_?"

"Mm." And Spain thinks this _stuff-_thing has gone on too long.

But then Romano tilts his head down. "Because I wasn't there." He says really softly.

"Huh-" But before Spain can finish he's on again, "Because I wasn't around you thought you could just do whatever you wanted?" And his voice gets louder as he turns to look at him. "You think you can just go off and party when I'm not around." And now he's yelling. "Why? Why would you do that?"

And Spain doesn't think he should tell the truth but he does anyway. "Because you were mad and left so I went out and had a good time."

Romano doesn't say anything. He's just sitting on the bed and staring at Spain. It's a hard gaze, but Spain's been under it many times before.

"_Did_ you have a good time?"

"Mmm..." Spain bites his lip and chews. Except for the hangover Spain wants to think it was one of the better nights in his life.

"Were you really happy?"

"Mmm."

"Without me?"

Spain can't think of a way to answer that one. He shifts a little and Romano rises.

"I'm going to Rome." Romano whispers, though Spain thinks, it could just as easily mean he's going to roam. He hears the brief rustle at the entryway and the door slamming like a lightning strike and the house is quiet it again. Spain rolls over and feels like he's been punched in the stomach, because even though the punch still throbs, underneath there's the sinking feeling Romano might have been aiming for his soul.

The house is quiet when Spain wakes again. The sun is setting, the colors on the wall outside his room tell him everything.

It's been going on a long time: Romano and him. He wants to say it had a definite starting point, a glance, a gesture, that sent the whole thing spiraling down. But he doesn't even remember how they got together in the first place. One moment he's the stupid boss, the stupid lover, stupid I hate you! and Romano walks out in a rage, then comes back the next day to kiss him on the mouth and take a long walk on the sidewalk, looking down alleyways like there's a secret hidden there. And Spain might be at his limit, but he could have sworn he said that months ago and nothing changed. And nothing changed because things were always constantly changing.

Spain takes a shower, gurgles mouth wash and drizzles olive oil on bread and eats it for dinner.

It's quiet.

It gets dark really fast and Spain sits on his sofa, plate with bread crumbs on the cushion next to him, and listens. The refrigerator hums and a car drives by but it's quiet and Spain just can't think of what to do. He turns on the TV and watches old black and white movies with the volume too low to hear anything. He falls asleep that way and this time he doesn't want to dream of anything.

It's a knock on the door that wakes him up. It's Romano again.

"Hey."

"Morning." Spain says, though he isn't sure what time of day it is.

"Yeah. Morning." Romano sort of smiles.

There's a long drawn out silence as someone holds their breath.

"I've been thinking..." Spain starts. And his tone must make it sound like bad news because Romano's sort of smile becomes a sort of frown.

"Yeah?" And now he just looks afraid.

But Spain shakes his head and smiles for the both of them. "No. It's nothing. Wanna go for a walk?"

And the noise starts up again.


End file.
